Those Who Remind Us
by Luinnelle
Summary: Remus Lupin is alone now. Oddly, Snape shows signs of friendliness. The two actually seem to get along, throwing away their past. But Voldemort has found someone else to control...someone never suspected, and possibly the most dangerous. 100% slash free!
1. The Night of

Author's note: This is my first Harry Potter fic. It does contain spoilers if you haven't read book 5...so be wary. Tell me what you think.  
  
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Remus stood as if rooted to the spot. He simply stared at the veiled archway, the only thought in his mind being, "Sirius", as if he was calling to him telekinetically. However, there was no response. He hadn't come out of the other side of the veil. Of course, he knew he wouldn't have. If only he could have reached him sooner. He could have prevented the whole thing. He hadn't stopped Sirius from leaving his house. He had allowed him to go. It was his fault. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder.  
  
"Come, Remus. He's gone," Kingsley's rough voice echoed slightly in the room, sending a chill down Remus' back.  
  
Reluctantly he turned from the archway and made his way up the stairs, passing a rather flustered Cornelius Fudge on the way. Dumbledore was leading Fudge to the scene, showing him the bound Death Eaters. His frantic, "Good lord, Dumbledore!" was the last thing Remus heard as he passed through the room full of brains spilled on the floor. The students were gone, now. No doubt on their way back to Hogwarts by now.  
  
Even though they had caught Death Eaters and had thwarted Lord Voldemort again, every ounce of Remus was choked with defeat. Neither he nor Kingsley uttered a word as they passed through the exit, down the long hallway, and up the lift. They entered onto the main floor, through the crowd of confused and scared witches and wizards, and returned to number 12 Grimmauld Place through the floo network.  
  
Remus was the first to stumble into the kitchen, and barely had time to move before Kingsley was just behind him. He couldn't have moved properly even if he had wanted to. His every limb was numb; his mind buzzing with accusations, anger, grief…it was all so overpowering. He had lost his last friend. Sirius Black, or Padfoot between friends, was dead. He was the last remaining of the three. Never would he have thought this was his fate. He was always worse off in school…the sick one. Now they were all grown up and he was the last to be alive. He would gladly have traded places with either James or Sirius now. This grief that he felt…the hopelessness…it was eating away at him.  
  
"Remus…you should get some sleep," Kingsley said behind him, trying to lead him by the shoulder.  
  
"Leave me." He said it a little harsher than he had intended, yet Kingsley nodded understandingly and left the kitchen quietly.  
  
Remus stumbled into a chair at the table and buried his head in his hands. He pulled at his hair in frustration, shaking with rage and sadness. He felt like doing something drastic, like hunting down Voldemort himself and ripping him to shreds. Maybe he would die too….  
  
That wouldn't be so bad right now, he thought.  
  
He kept expecting to see Sirius come through the kitchen door, and actually jumped when he heard noises. The kitchen door swung open and Remus almost fell out of his chair. Could it be? Maybe he was still alive...nothing could kill Sirius, after all he'd been through. But it was only Kreacher. The nasty, old house elf was grinning broadly from ear to ear. Remus jumped from his chair in a blind rage and shouted at him, "Get out of this house! I never want to see you again! You traitor! You betrayed him!" He gave the house elf a good kick out the kitchen door and flinched at the sound of its cackling. Anyone who had been asleep in the house must have been awakened by his screaming, but he didn't care. He wasn't thinking properly. The world was spinning about him…he'd lost his best friend, but he refused to believe it in a sense. He kept expecting Sirius' cheery face to appear in the room. And when he did, he'd say something like, "Well that was a close one! Want to have another go?" And then he'd laugh heartily as if nothing had happened.  
  
That was the way it should have been. That was the way it must be.  
  
It will be that way, thought Remus. He sat down again, set his head on the table over his hands, and fell into a fitful sleep. 


	2. Friends Stand by

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The soft hand of Molly Weasley was the first thing to disturb Remus' sleep. She lightly shook his shoulder as he arose from slumber.  
  
  
  
"Remus, everyone is coming in for breakfast."  
  
  
  
"What?" he responded groggily. He wasn't completely sure where he was.  
  
  
  
"It's morning. The others are coming for breakfast..." Just as she said this the door opened and in strode Mundungus Fletcher.  
  
  
  
He looked a little frazzled, but beyond that he seemed to be in a cheery mood. However, when he saw Remus sitting at the table he stopped dead and the grin faded from his face in a split second. He fumbled with his finger and started muttering, "Erm...morning, Remus! How are...er...have a nice...ahem...lovely weather, eh?" Remus stared blankly at Mundungus as he sat down opposite him and decided to change the subject.  
  
  
  
"What's for eating, Molly? Smells wonderful, that does!" Mundungus called to Molly in a jovial manner.  
  
  
  
Molly was bustling around the kitchen preparing the rest of the meal, pointing her wand at various things and sending them flying across the room. "Oh, well let's see...we have bacon, ham, pancakes, eggs—"  
  
"I'll just have a little bit of everything," declared Mundungus with his pointer finger in the air.  
  
Remus was looking around the kitchen, still a little disoriented. He watched Molly as she brought Mundungus' food to him. He thought he saw her eyes flit to his face for a fraction of a second before looking back at the plate of food she was setting on the table. He glanced at Mundungus, who he realized had been watching him. Molly elbowed him in the ribs, and with a growl of pain he quickly looked away. They were staring at him, and Remus knew why. Of course, they were all trying to see how he was coping. It was stupid of them...both of them. What did they expect? Did they expect him to break out in a big grin and declare how wonderful life was? Naïve. They were both naïve, and he felt like shouting it at them.  
  
The kitchen door opened again and Kingsley Shacklebolt strode in. He approached things differently. He walked straight up to Remus, sat down next to him, and asked in a comforting tone of voice, "How are you, Remus?"  
  
Remus was taken off guard by this question. He had expected to be avoided all morning, not approached like this. He stammered out an answer, "Well...I guess about as good...as I can be."  
  
Kingsley nodded approvingly. Remus was almost glad he wasn't being avoided. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Even if he was only asking how he was, it was still a comfort. He didn't feel as bad as he had last night. Sirius' death had sunken in completely now, and he had stopped thinking he was going to stride through the door. He figured this was a good thing. As much as he wanted Sirius to come back, denial wasn't healthy. He'd seen many witches and wizards slowly slip away from realty because they were in denial.  
  
The door opened again and Alastor Moody, or more commonly known as   
  
"Mad-Eye" Moody, limped in. He wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air. "Smells good," he declared. He limped over to the table, his fake eye swiveling about in his head and finally resting on Remus. He sat down next to Kingsley.  
  
  
  
"You alright, Lupin?" he asked in what almost sounded like a concerned tone.  
  
"Er...ahem..."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I understand."  
  
Remus opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up from the table. He began to walk towards the door, but hadn't even made it before it opened again. A number of people entered this time. There was Elphias Doge, Arthur Weasley, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, Charlie and Bill Weasley, and at the back was Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"Remus. Where are you going?" questioned Dumbledore. "Sit down, sit down."  
  
Taken aback, Remus turned around and sat back in his chair. Dumbledore sat down next to Mundungus as the others sat down around the table. Remus looked around the room and noticed almost everyone was looking at him. He looked at Dumbledore, who was also staring at him, but seemed to be really looking inside of him. The usual twinkle in his eyes was gone. Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore stood up and addressed everyone.  
  
"Last night, the Order had its first encounter with Voldemorte (many people winced) in fifteen years. As you all know, I'm sure, we lost one of the Order, someone very dear to us." He looked at Remus, who was staring at Dumbledore, almost pleading him not to go there.  
  
It seems that sometimes feelings never bore to the surface until they are driven there. That was precisely what Dumbledore was trying to do, and Remus would give anything for Dumbledore not to do it.  
  
"Sirius Black was lost last night. He died, yes, but some will find that he is not truly dead. One can never be truly dead unless they are forgotten, and I don't believe Sirius will ever be forgotten. Do you?"  
  
Dumbledore was staring straight at Remus, and it was apparent he was asking him the question. He fumbled around in his brain. It was telling him to answer the question.  
  
Say "no", he thought.  
  
But no words came out. Instead a choking noise came from his throat. He was holding back tears again. He didn't want to cry in front of everyone. That would be stupid. Men don't cry (at least, not in front of others). Just when he thought he could stand the silence no longer, Mundungus stood up and said loudly, "No, we won't." He patted Remus on the shoulder, then sat back down. Suddenly there was a barrage of people saying the same thing and patting Remus on the back. They were all answering for him. They knew he would never forget, and just because he couldn't talk about it didn't mean he didn't want to. Remus was incredibly grateful for all his fellow Order members. They had almost all experienced some sort of loss like his. They understood. Then Remus understood. Dumbledore hadn't asked that question to put pressure on Remus, but to let him know how many stood with him. It was overwhelming. 


	3. In His Final Breath

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Three days passed uneventfully. There was to be a meeting of the Order on the next Wednesday and on the Friday following that summer vacation started for students at Hogwarts. That meant the professors that belonged to the Order could come whenever they were needed. Remus couldn't decide whether he liked the idea of more people around him or not. They were beginning to annoy him on account of the sympathetic looks they shot him every time they passed or glanced across the room at him. Sirius' death was taking a toll on everybody. He had been the first Order member to die since Voldemort returned. Everyone was certain he wouldn't be the last. This thought filled everyone with a burning dread in the pits of their stomach every time it was mentioned. No one, however, confessed what they feared. Dumbledore had once told them, "Fear is the only thing that keeps a person from doing something." They didn't want people to think they couldn't do anything for fear.  
  
Remus had gone home the day after Sirius' death, even though he hadn't seen the point. There was no one he could talk to, and nothing really to do. He paced around, straightening his shabby belongings. He looked at his calendar. The next full moon was in two weeks. He needed potion from Severus Snape. Severus' potion kept him from being savage when he turned into a werewolf. It kept him calm so he wouldn't hurt anyone. He looked for some food, but found he had no appetite. He was bored. He sat down on his sofa and began to drift off.  
  
That evening, after a day of wasted time, Remus stepped outside onto his front porch. His home was surrounded by woods. It was safer that way; just in case he didn't take his potion and turned into a werewolf. Less people near him meant less risk. Dealing with his illness was horrible enough, but now there was so much more to deal with. First it was the rise of Lord Voldemort. Then the death of one of his best friends, James Potter. Then it was the news of how his other best friend, Sirius Black had blasted away a street full of muggles and one wizard and been sent to Azkaban. Then he escaped. After that Remus learned he had been innocent the whole time. Last year, Lord Voldemort had come back to power, almost killing Harry Potter. And now...a year later...Voldemort had killed Sirius and Remus was the last of the trio alive. Why him? Why the werewolf? The supposed mass-murder, Sirius Black would have been better left alive. James Potter would have been an even better choice to still be living. This was a question that had been plaguing his mind since the night Sirius died.  
  
Remus looked all about him. Darkness was close to taking over that part of the world, and shadows covered everything. The little bit of moonlight there was splashed the topmost leaves of the tallest trees. A soft breeze blew, sending his light brown and gray hair askew and leaves crunching and tumbling along the forest floor. He listened a bit to nothing but the sound of chirping crickets and the leaves blowing in the wind. The trees made a sort of rushing sound, and for some reason it seemed to bring Remus great comfort. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind of all disturbing thoughts, but in a flash light he saw the face of Sirius just before he fell through the veil. He saw his wide, surprised eyes and the splash of fear in his sunken face. He saw the way his mouth formed a word just before his body fell back in an arc through the veil. The image had gone just as quickly as it had come. Remus was immensely unnerved. He thought about what he had just seen. He hadn't realized it before, but Sirius had said something before he had died.  
  
What could he have said? What was so important that it had to be uttered before his death? Perhaps it was simply a curse of rage at defeat. Maybe he simply blurted out some random word as his mind slipped away into darkness. Whatever he had said, it was now tugging at Remus as though it was of the utmost importance. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Why hadn't he noticed it before? Had anyone else? Should he tell Dumbledore about it? Thoughts began tearing through his mind and he became more and more frustrated.  
  
CRACK  
  
A cracking noise came from the depths of the forest. Remus snapped to attention, pulling his wand from his robes. His eyes alertly scanned every inch of space in front of him. The noise had sounded like a cracking twig. Remus stepped down off of his porch onto the leaf strewn ground and began creeping towards the spot the noise had come from with his wand held in front of him like a sword. Somewhere in front of him, he could just barely see the outline of something black and waist height walking toward him: Something walking on four legs. As it came into better view, Remus lowered his wand and gaped open mouth at the animagi form of Sirius. The big black dog stared up at him, and Remus stared back, hardly able to believe it. Sirius! He wasn't dead! Remus grinned broadly and almost cried. But something wasn't right. Sirius' eyes were boring into Remus' in an unfriendly sort of way. The dog crept closer, and without warning launched himself at Remus, knocking him to the ground, growling, ripping, and tearing at his flesh. Remus managed a strangled cry of, "Sirius, no!"  
  
Remus awoke, still screaming and struggling, with a mixture of sweat and tears on his face. His whole body was shaking. It was only a dream. He sat back up on the sofa, running his fingers through his hair and covering his face with them. He screamed into his hands. He hated it. He hated living while they didn't. He should have been relieved that he had just had a dream and that it hadn't been real, but instead all he felt was guilty. Perhaps Sirius was angry at him for living, too. 


	4. An Excellent Invite

Author's note: Okay, there will only be one more chapter after this that revolves around Sirius' death...I promise.... It then goes into the new friendship of Remus and Snape and a few...*cough* *cough* other issues....  
  
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A week passed. Remus mostly stayed in his home, though on Wednesday he had gone to the Order meeting. Various things had been discussed...: How Voldemort had not gotten the prophecy, and how Sirius had died. New reports came from certain witches and wizards who had been assigned tasks, the identities of a few other Death Eaters had been discovered, and information on a planned attack on a muggle village was also given. It was an extremely long meeting, and Remus was not feeling up to it. His mind was on other things.  
  
Like his dream.  
  
He hadn't told Dumbledore about it. He hadn't told anyone about it. It was all he thought about. Even when he tried to busy himself with other things, he would soon find his mind wandering to it. In his dream, Sirius had said something with his last breath. The reason he hadn't told Dumbledore (though a large part of him urged him to) was because he felt that Dumbledore would not understand. Remus almost felt as if what Sirius had said was only for Remus to know.  
  
It was Thursday afternoon. Remus found himself at the front door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He didn't know why he was there...company, perhaps? He tapped the front door with his wand, and after many clicks of locks the door swung open, illuminating the hall inside with sunlight. Remus walked inside, closing the door behind him. He walked a bit till he reached the kitchen. He peeked inside. No one was there, not even Molly Weasley.  
  
Odd, he thought to himself.  
  
He went to the third floor to Buckbeak's room, but the hippogriff was gone.  
  
Probably at Hagrid's hut, he thought.  
  
"Hello? Is anyone here?" His voice echoed throughout the house, reverberating off of old statues, windows, and furniture, and creating an eerie silence afterwards.  
  
"Shut up, you ruddy fool, and get out of my house," Mrs. Black's portrait said in a depressed manner. Even Mrs. Black hadn't screamed at anybody since Sirius had died, and that was truly strange.  
  
Remus walked down the stairs to the first floor. He stood in front of the portrait, gazing at Mrs. Black's sunken in face. She was sitting, arms crossed, staring somewhere off in the distance.  
  
"Mrs. Black...it's Remus. Remember me?"  
  
"Of course I remember you. You were my son's idiot friend. You won't find anyone here. They've all left. I don't know where to, so don't go asking me any more questions. Leave me alone."  
  
Puzzled, Remus left the house. Where could they be? They would have told him about any changed plans such as a new meeting place. Almost as if answering his thought, an owl swooped down from the sky and dropped a letter at Remus' feet. He bent over, picked it up, and read the outside of the folded parchment. His name was on the outside. That was it. He unfolded the letter and read.  
  
Remus,  
  
Dinner will be at our house tonight. Please join us...I'd be delighted. You shouldn't stay home every night.  
  
With love,  
  
Molly Weasley  
  
The letter had been short, but Remus was glad to have it. Friends with dinner did sound like a great idea.... He looked back at Sirius' house, not regretting leaving it. What was the harm in eating with other people? They weren't going to interrogate him about his feelings. Besides, he couldn't live with his cooking for much longer.  
  
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Yes, yes...I know. Short chapter...::shrugs:: oh well. 


End file.
